


Nothing to Be Afraid Of

by IcyPanther



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Hunk (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Engineer - Freeform, Gen, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, MacGyver-ism, Protective Lance (Voltron), Sniper - Freeform, Sniper Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 22:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14122155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IcyPanther/pseuds/IcyPanther
Summary: Hunk will admit it. He's afraid of many things and being captured by the Galra alongside Lance ranks at the top. But it's the Galra who should be afraid. After all, they just unleashed a brilliant engineer and a quick-witted sharpshooter in their base. Better watch out.--"Uh, Hunk, what are you doing?""Making bombs," Hunk replied cheerfully."Oh, okay- bombs?" Lance squeaked.





	Nothing to Be Afraid Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Eyed_Dreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Eyed_Dreamer/gifts).



> **Timeline notes:** Season three before Shiro is found
> 
>  **Warning notes:** Minor character deaths, some injuries. Nothing really graphic

Hunk would admit he was scared of a lot of things.

They varied in degree. Spiders – not all of them but anything bigger than his thumb – and really any bugs with lots of legs made him jump and clowns made him cry. Getting lost made him beyond anxious and the idea of letting people down (whether it be his parents, his Garrison teachers or Voltron) left him a sweating, shaking mess. Being in the Lions and flying had helped the fear of heights but his stomach never forgot the fear of sudden drops and looking out over the edge of something from high above left him paralyzed.

Birds in large flocks made him duck for cover and for reasons he could not explain Chihuahuas terrified him beyond measure. He was scared of forgetting important dates and being in space had made that fear even worse as he had no real calendar to mark them by. He still wasn't sure how long they'd been up here and that scared him too.

Yet all of those scary things paled in comparison to waking up and finding himself bound in a prison cell with purple décor lighting that could only mean Galra.

And then that horrible moment of panic of realizing he had been captured had been immediately overwhelmed by a greater fear when he saw Lance lying motionless beside him, a dark patch of hair matted with blood adorning the back of his head. His own head gave a throb as a reminder he had such a spot too but he ignored it completely.

"Lance!" he whispered loudly. "Lance!"

Lance did not so much as stir.

Okay, deep breath, don't panic. Hunk sucked in a noisy gust of air and then repeated twice more until he felt his heart stop racing quite so hard. He couldn't do anything to help Lance if he was having a panic attack, so stopping that was first priority. Another deep breath.

Hunk matched his breaths in time to Lance's chest slowly rising up and down after that, finding comfort in that Lance was steadily breathing himself. After a few minutes of doing so Hunk got back to work.

His hands were bound behind him, rather uncomfortably too, but after a few brief tips back and forth Hunk managed to roll himself onto his behind and then sat up. His ankles had been left unbound and he scooted himself across the floor by digging his heels in and the rubber on his boots squeaked noisily.

Lance's nose wrinkled up at the sound and he winced. Hunk did it again even though he'd reached his destination and Lance let out a soft noise of discontent.

"Lance!"

"Whattttt?" came the drawled out moan.

"Wake up,  _hermano,"_ Hunk nudged Lance with his foot. He cast his gaze over his shoulder at the door now behind him. He had no idea what they were up against but having Lance awake and coherent would be infinitely better than muddled and unconscious.

Lance let out an unintelligible mumble.

Hunk gave a bit firmer of a tap this time and that garnered a pair of hazy blue eyes blinking open at him. Lance slowly blinked twice more before with a sharp gasp he went to sit up only to fall immediately back down when he realized he had no hands to brace himself with.

"Hey, hey, easy," Hunk cautioned, even as Lance was already adapting to the new position and rolling onto his back to then sit up.

Lance took a few quick seconds, sharp eyes tracing the cell, before he looked to Hunk with a rueful grin. "Guess our supply run didn't go as planned."

Hunk snorted before he could stop himself and Lance's grin turned easier.

The castle had been running on its absolute last fumes as they had spent the last few weeks scouring the vast reaches of the universe for any sign of Shiro. They had been running themselves ragged, not even sure where to start. The Black Lion had provided no answers other than the empty cockpit and any attempts to ask her what had happened to her Paladin were met with only silence.

Hunk hated it. The silence. The anger. The despair. Keith had been dancing on a knife's edge since Shiro had disappeared, going from snapping anger to such sorrow that when Lance had placed a hand on Keith's shoulder following another dead end Keith had just leaned into it and hadn't moved for almost an hour, eventually falling asleep against Lance.

Pidge was exhausted herself, trying to track anything, pick up any information or signals about what had happened. Hunk too was throwing himself into every piece of code he could help her with, boosting the castle's range to pick up any chatter. But the Galrans had gone near dark following the battle and their efforts had proven in vain thus far. They still kept at it. Every failure though picked apart at them a little more. Hunk hadn't even been able to stress bake as he normally did because supplies were too low to be used in such a way.

Allura had been reaching out to contacts; the Blade, former allies. Hunk had never seen the princess have anything but impeccable skin, just as smooth as Lance's, but there were dark circles below her eyes and her hair was unkempt. Hunk knew she wasn't sleeping well, blaming herself for what had transpired even though none of them had any idea such an outcome had even been possible. Her war, she'd whispered. Her fault. And Shiro could be  _anywhere,_ suffering again because of her.

Coran and Lance had been the ones trying to hold them all together. The Altean advisor kept the castle up and running and had been working to repair the Lions, all of which had suffered from the firefight with Zarkon and offering what comforts he could to the exhausted, worried humans in his care.

Lance had been focusing his efforts on not the castle but on them. He was the one who ushered Pidge to bed, even getting yelled at for his efforts, but he took her sharp words, pulled her into a hug and just sat with her until she fell asleep. He had been the only one who could calm Keith from his angriest rants, soothe the peace between the fiery Red Paladin and Allura when they found themselves at odds in sheer frustration over the lack of progress.

Hunk knew Lance was hurting too, but like his best friend always did he put others before himself. He took their anger with a smile, tried to pull them out of Keith and Allura with mixed results, and otherwise was there to just be a shoulder to lean on when exhaustion finally became too much. Hunk tried his best to return the favor and the two had been bunking nightly with each other so Hunk could try to make sure Lance slept, even if that meant finding a cold, slender body pressed up against him in the middle of the night and stealing all of his heat. Hunk just tugged Lance in closer and offered what comfort he could.

Still, things were not good. As the days stole by with no answers tempers became shorter, words more barbed. They  _needed_ Shiro back. They needed their leader, their hero. Their brother. Yet all they could do was keep searching, keep asking and keep praying.

The ceaseless search had come to a standstill that morning when Coran reported their supplies were dangerously low between the filters for the oxygen and food supplies and they had had no choice but to land the ship on a Galra controlled planet and go into the large marketplace for items.

Allura had drawn herself up, a weary resignation in her eyes, and announced they would stop here to restock and then… then they needed to get back to their duties of Voltron and assisting planets in need. Keith had exploded, screaming that Allura didn't care about Shiro and was abandoning him. Pidge had sided with Keith, Coran with Allura and left the Yellow and Blue Paladins in the middle.

Hunk understood both sides. He did. But they had been ignoring distress calls for over a week now and just because Zarkon had gone quiet there were still planets suffering under Galra hands. Shiro would not want them to ignore their plight. He'd been screamed at too by Keith then and when Lance had jumped in to defend him Keith had looked so betrayed and had physically shoved Lance away when he tried to reach out to place a calming hand on his shoulder.

Keith had stormed off, Pidge had stormed off and the rest of them remained standing there. Lance had then quietly told Allura he and Hunk would go to town and get the supplies and give everyone some time to calm down. He'd told Allura that he would support her decision to resume helping others but he was not giving up the search for Shiro and Allura had nodded, giving Lance a tired but sincere and grateful smile and thanks.

They'd gone down in their Earth clothes as the Paladin armor was much too obviously Altean, but, well, the universe wasn't ready to let them catch a break. Hunk still wasn't sure what had tipped someone off – probably one of the shopkeepers had tattled on them when Lance had been carefully asking if anyone had seen a man matching Shiro's description and inquiring about Emperor Zarkon's health – but they'd found themselves surrounded by a small contingent of soldiers shortly thereafter.

There'd been some pushing and shouting and Hunk remembered punching one soldier squarely in the face after he'd backhanded Lance before something had smashed against the back of his head and he woke up here, in the Galra cell.

"So," Lance said, bringing Hunk back to their current predicament. "We need to get out of here. Obviously. Any ideas, my amazing, talented, genius bestie?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Hunk teased, feeling himself calm in the face of Lance's easy demeanor. It was hard to remain scared when Lance was treating this whole thing like an inconvenience rather than the panic-inducing capture that it really was.

"It's not flattery if it's true," Lance grinned and Hunk rolled his eyes.

"Cuffs first," Hunk said, wiggling his hands behind his back. "Can you turn around? I need to get a good look at them."

Lance obediently pivoted on his rump and Hunk pulled himself closer to examine the cuffs. They weren't anything special just as the cell wasn't; simple and plain. No cameras in the cell, no Galra-signature on the cuffs. Wherever they were the Galra certainly didn't expect to have such high-profile prisoners, if they even know who they'd captured. He and Lance could honestly have just been brought in for questioning given their own inquiries and the Galra had no idea they had Paladins of Voltron in their midst. They would regret that if that were the case.

"Okay," Hunk said, "Looks like a standard keyhole. I could probably pick them off if I had something small and pointy." That, however, was a bit of a problem. The cell was completely barren and had nothing of note.

Lance's shoulder however perked up. "How about nail clippers?" he asked, turning back around with a grin.

"Of course you have nail clippers," Hunk laughed, shaking his head. "Where are they?"

"Inner coat pocket," Lance nodded down at his jacket on his right side. His expression stiffened then. "And don't you  _dare_ take any longer than necessary to find them. Straight to the pocket."

Hunk grinned. "Oh. And why is that?"

"You know," Lance grumbled, shifting so he was closer to Hunk and it was Hunks turn to face opposite so he could maneuver his hands inside Lance's unzippered jacket. He'd barely reached up, feeling out behind him to locate said pocket, when Lance jerked back.

"Come on, hold still," Hunk tried again, fingers brushing against Lance's stomach as he angled them around.

"H-Hunk, stop," Lance gasped.

"Stop being so ticklish," Hunk countered, finally locating the pocket while Lance shook with muffled laughter behind him. His fingers closed about the object, more than just nail clippers he realized, and he couldn't resist poking his fingers out one last time to hit the sensitive spot right above Lance's stomach and the high laugh turned into a guffaw.

"Hunk!" Lance choked out. "That was  _mean!"_ But even though Hunk couldn't see it he could feel Lance's grin. Good. Despite the fact Lance hadn't lost his smile during all of this it had lost some of its light.  _This_ was much better and again, Hunk found himself shaking his head at how little he was panicking in this situation.

"Turn around," he instructed instead. "We should hurry."

That sobered them both a bit and Lance angled himself so he was back to back with Hunk. Hunk fumbled around the object, a keychain, he realized, until he found the nail clippers by touch. He pulled the file free and then angled it back.

"Ouch!" Lance helped as the thin blade missed the manacle and hit his skin instead.

" _Lo siento,"_ Hunk murmured, already guiding it back, more carefully, and poking it around the area where he'd seen the lock. All was quiet as he jiggled the file back and forth, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. It was like a puzzle. That he couldn't see. But despite his large size Hunk had always been good with his hands and handling delicate pieces of machinery. This was no different. And a few seconds later he was rewarded with a dull click.

"Yes!" Lance cheered and a moment later Hunk felt a pair of arms throw themselves around him from behind in a hug. "Your turn!"

A minute later though it became clear that Lance was not having quite the same success and his sheepish face pulled into Hunk's view a second later. "Um…"

"It's all right," Hunk comforted. "We'll just have to get a key." He had no idea how but they would have to. Somehow.

"Sorry," Lance whispered, hanging his head.

Hunk nudged him with his shoulder. "Hey. None of that. Help me up?"

Hunk probably could have managed on his own but Lance brightened up at the suggestion for help and Hunk was on his feet a moment later. His head swam at the sudden change and based on Lance's slight groan he was experiencing the same.

Lance made immediately for the door, running his hand along the smooth seams. Like most Galra doors it disappeared into the ceiling without any sort of latch or hinge. Hm. This one might be a little tough as there was nothing for them to actually meddle with.

"Do we wait for a guard?" Hunk wondered aloud.

Lance shook his head. "We don't have time for that. We have to get back before the others come looking for us." His lips pressed into a thin line, no doubt remembering the terms on which they'd all left. "I don't want them to worry," he added quietly.

Both stared at the impassable door before Lance snapped his fingers. "I've got it!" He turned a megawatt grin to Hunk. "Time to brush off the dramatics!"

"I don't think you ever shelved them," Hunk ribbed gently.

"Okay, back on the ground," Lance ordered gleefully. "And look like you're in pain. I'll scream for help and someone will have to come and then wham!" he slammed a fist into his open hand, "down he goes!"

Hunk remained standing, raising an eyebrow. "Let's think this out. The guard comes and you're going to just knock him out like that? With the armor and them being at least a foot taller than you?" Lance's expression faltered. "But…" Hunk's lips turned up. "I may have an idea. Take off your jacket."

A few minutes later they were ready, Hunk crouched on the ground and holding tight to one sleeve of the jacket and Lance holding the other while screaming for all he was worth and pounding his free fist on the door. "Help!" he wailed. "My friend is dying! We need help! ¡ _Ayuda! ¡Por favor!"_

There were legit tears streaming down Lance's face as he cried for help, kicking the door with socked feet, and Hunk actually felt a moment of panic that he was actually badly hurt as Lance sobbed between English and Spanish for assistance. He'd forgotten how much of a theater kid Lance had been back before they'd gone to the Garrison and the power of those tear-filled blue puppy eyes.

Just when Hunk was about to call it, the door slid open with a hiss, revealing a very irate guard. "What is going on–?"

His words were swallowed by a yell as he made to step into the room and he tripped over the jacket the two boys had pulled tight across the bottom of the door. They both sprang into action like clockwork; Hunk jumped from his crouch and elbow-dropped all of his weight onto the back of the downed guard with a  _crunch,_ helmet flying off, while Lance piled his shoes beneath the open door to catch it as it came back down. Within seconds Lance was back where Hunk was lying spread across the dazed guard and using the cuffs he'd been freed from to secure the Galran.

"Nighty night," Lance grinned and slammed his foot down on the exposed head and the guard went out like a light. He dropped immediately next to him and freed a ring of keys from the guard's belt with a triumphant cheer although complained about the lack of a blaster. A few keys later and Hunk was rubbing his sore wrists back into circulation with a matching grin.

"Onwards?" Lance gestured with an exaggerated bow towards the door where his shoes had been squashed but had left a few inch gap at the bottom.

Hunk returned the bow, strangely exhilarated. He crouched back down, placing his hands beneath the gap and shoved upwards with all his might. The door shot straight up and before it could decide to go down again he and Lance hurried into the hall. Hunk stood guard while Lance tugged on his shoes and put his jacket back on.

Like all Galra things, the hall was lit with purple lights and cold metal that stretched onwards, hallways branching off with a series of doors.

"I vote left," Lance said, straightening up.

"Why left?" Hunk could feel his stomach starting to turn again despite his earlier courage. Out here they were wide in the open, unarmed and guards or sentries could literally pop out from any corridor.

"It starts with an "L" like Lance," Lance shrugged. Hunk couldn't argue with that.

They crept down the corridor alongside the walls, reminding Hunk eerily of the night they'd snuck out of the Garrison and gotten caught up in Voltron. A pair of trash receptacles standing at attention outside one door only made the deja vu worse.

Every door they came across Lance tried the set of keys he'd commandeered, but they remained stubbornly locked. One  _finally_ opened and he yanked it open a little too gleefully to reveal…

A janitor's closet, complete with mop, broom and cleaning supplies.

"...Why is this room locked?" Lance grimaced. "Like, who locks a supply closet?"

"Paranoid Galrans," Hunk volunteered. "Wait, wait, don't shut it!" he cried, as Lance made to close it. "It has things!"

"Things?" Lance repeated.

Hunk was already digging into the supplies with a gusto, looking for anything useful to aid them in escaping. They still had no idea if they were planetside or if they had been transported to a ship and they needed to prepare for anything.

"Here," he shoved a broom into Lance's hands. "Stand guard."

Lance snorted. "Oh yeah. A broom is really going to scare them away. Stand back or I'll sweep you." Still, he twirled the metal pole in his hands and took up a position so he could easily glance both ways down the hall while Hunk continued his rummaging.

The closet was a treasure trove. It would have been better had it been a nice, convenient exit door but it could have also been worse. Like, a room filled with Galrans or something.

Hunk flipped through the bottles of chemicals stacked on the shelf. The labels were all foreign to him but he could still get the gist of them by taking careful whiffs or looking at the picture instructions. His eyes lit up when he found a floor cleaner that had to be vinegar based and then a powder substance that seemed to be an absorbing agent.

Bingo.

A box of disposable work gloves were his next target and he emerged from the closet with his chosen supplies along with a mop, a spray bottle with a very potent smelling cleaner, and a large role of garbage bags. He proceeded to sit down on the floor and opened up one of the rubber gloves.

"Uh, Hunk, what are you doing?"

"Making bombs," he replied cheerfully, carefully pouring the powder into the alien latex.

"Oh okay, I thought–" Lance broke off with a squeak. "Bombs?"

"Nothing crazy," Hunk assured, pouring in the floor cleaner and being very careful not to jostle it. "More of a distraction than anything but they could come in handy if we encounter soldiers."

"Nothing crazy," Lance muttered, awe in his voice. "Just making bombs out of cleaning supplies. No big deal."

"It's nothing," Hunk shrugged off the praise. "Just basic chemistry."

"You know I barely passed chemistry."

Hunk chuckled. "True."

"Hey, Hunk?" Lance's voice had become more subdued and Hunk glanced up from tying the entire glove together to be placed into one of the garbage bags. Lance was looking away from him, sharp eyes shifting from side to side along the hall, but he had his head angled back somewhat. "What're we going to do?"

Hunk purposely chose to misinterpret the question. "I'm really hoping successfully escape."

Lance turned his head then and gave him a flat stare.

"I don't know," Hunk sighed, preparing a second bomb.

"We're falling apart," Lance said quietly. "We… we need Shiro."

"I know."

"We're in a Galra base."

Hunk connected the dots a second later. "Oh no! Oh no no no. Lance!"

And God help him Lance turned those eyes that could make even Lance's mamá forgive whatever hot water her youngest son had gotten himself into.

"Hunk, we  _have_ to," Lance pleaded. "We haven't been this close to the Galra in weeks and the team is in no shape to try any type of infiltration mission. The Blades haven't heard anything about Shiro either. What if there's something here? Some intel we can download or something that leads us to him? We  _have_ to try."

"I don't think this is a very high-security base," Hunk said carefully. "No cameras, just the one guard and the lock and key cuffs and doors. They aren't likely to have anything use–"

"Hunk," Lance interrupted, face more serious than Hunk was used to. "If there's  _any_ possibility of even just a hint… You know Shiro would do the same for us. They brought us in, right? Probably for asking questions. They  _have_ to know something. And we can't leave without it."

Hunk knew that Lance had many sides of his personality. The one that that most saw was the goofball, the flirt. Lance kept it up because it made people relax, made people laugh (or sigh in exasperation, depending on the person and the mood) but it was light and carefree just like Lance liked to be.

Beneath that though was the most compassionate, kind person Hunk had ever met with the absolute biggest heart. It had been showing itself more these past few weeks; a patience and resilience and empathy that never failed to awe Hunk. He'd been grateful to see Allura, who he knew Lance admired so, so much, start to take notice of it and she had been leaning on his support more and more. He kept them all together and Lance didn't even seem to realize his importance in that regard.

There was then too the shadows that loomed that very, very few knew about. Lance's self-doubt that he wasn't good enough, his fear that Hunk understood too well of letting people down. Hunk knew Lance compared himself to his teammates, knew he found himself lacking despite all of his many, many talents and qualities. All Hunk could do was hug him close, reassure him that Lance absolutely was the best friend, best brother he could ever want and he  _was_ the Blue Paladin for a reason. The Blue Lion had chosen him and that reminder did normally bring a smile to his face.

But the other facet, the one that Lance did not get enough credit for, was his leadership. It had been brushed by the wayside up here in space with powerhouses like Shiro and Allura and the clear expectations Shiro placed upon Keith to be his second as the Red Paladin. But Lance was a leader and a damn good one, pardon his French.

At the Garrison Lance had been in charge of his team and contrary to popular opinion pilots were not always the leader. Lance had earned that spot. He looked out for his team, he encouraged them. He would take the blame, step up even when it wasn't his to take. He was a quick thinker, passionate with his words and people  _listened._ He wasn't smart in the genius way like Hunk and Pidge, but he was people smart. He got them. He could see things many missed.

And right now? Lance was pulling out that leader voice, that compelling tone that made Hunk straighten his back and listen up. And, Hunk realized, Lance was right.

"Okay," he nodded and Lance let out a breath. "Okay. We have to be  _careful_ though."

"Absolutely," came a sharp grin. "You ready, mop man?"

"Ha ha," Hunk deadpanned, picking up his empty containers and shoving them back into the closet. He hooked his garbage bag of explosives on his belt loop and tucked the remaining garbage bags into his pants pocket. Never knew when they might come in handy. Then he picked up his mop and wielded it in front of him. "Let's go."

Unfortunately even with a new mission in mind they still didn't know where they were going. They had doublebacked to the doors that had been locked and Hunk had jimmied them open, but all they'd revealed were storage rooms, another cell (empty) and then the cell they had been the previous occupants of. That one did have a keypad lock and Hunk made the executive decision that they were only going to focus on similar doors. Every minute they remained out in the open like this was another minute for guards to descend and Hunk did not envy their chances right now.

He wasn't as code a programmer as Pidge but he could make do in a pinch and got to put his skills to the test as the hall corridor that jutted out from their main one had such a keypad. No alarm sounded though and the door slid open with a quiet hiss to reveal another corridor.

Lance took the lead, footsteps near silent and expression back to that grim line of determination as they proceeded deeper into enemy territory.

Hunk could at least confirm that they were not on a ship. There were no gravity or airlock mechanisms embedded in the keypad which meant that either this was the shoddiest built ship ever for space travel or they were still on land. Hunk was putting his money on land and could have cried with relief.

Lance froze so suddenly that Hunk crashed into the back of him. He'd have uttered an apology but Lance had cocked his head like a dog trying to hear better and Hunk sucked in his breath instead.

Metal. Clanking. Hunk's knuckles turned white on his mop. Footsteps. Low voices. Someone was headed their way in the corridor just up ahead.

"Two," Lance breathed out, barely audible.

Hunk felt dizzy. This was it.

"I'll be the bait," Lance continued, plan clearly already in mind, "and lead them out here. You get behind and wallop them."

"W-wait," Hunk stuttered but Lance kept going. "Lance," he hissed, but Lance was already stepping out from behind the wall and into full view of the conjoined corridor without pause and a steely glint in his eyes.

The footsteps immediately stopped and there was a moment of pregnant silence.

Lance raised a hand up in a wave. "Hi."

There was the sound of blasters whining to full power then and yet Lance stood his ground, posture somehow relaxed despite facing down two armed Galrans. Hunk shook just out of sight, stomach threatening to expel itself. This was not a good idea. This was not a good idea.

"I think I'm a little lost," Lance continued. "I was looking for the bathroom. Can one of you–?"

He was cut off with the sound of blaster fire and Hunk watched in horror as one bright purple blast skimmed just past Lance as he pivoted out of the way. The second shot he intercepted with his broom like it was a baseball bat and to Hunk's amazement it actually reflected.

Lance was backing up, reflecting another blast back and ducking below two rapid-fire ones. He had always been nimble, Hunk thought faintly. But this wasn't some sparring match. The footsteps were growing louder as the Galrans came down the corridor. And, Hunk gulped, Lance was nearly to the wall and out of room to maneuver.

Lance evaded another hit but he wasn't so lucky on the next round. A sharp gasp tumbled from his mouth as the laser brushed just against his leg. In armor it wouldn't have been anything, but in civilian clothes? Lance's leg collapsed under him and he went down with a yelp.

Hunk's heart stopped.

No.

No.

Two helmeted, purple heads emerged just then from the corridor and Hunk wasted no time as they closed in on Lance, stepping out behind them. He swung his mop for all it was worth, fear and adrenaline lending him strength. It connected solidly with one Galran's head, who went immediately limp. His partner had a mere second to turn, blaster raised before Hunk swung again and sent him tumbling to the floor with a clatter of armor.

Hunk's heavy pants were the only sound then in the hall and he trembled before casting his gaze to Lance, who was already pulling himself to his feet and gingerly stepping forward. He could see an angry red burn on Lance's upper thigh where the laser had seared through his jeans and the top few layers of skin.

"Nice hit," Lance complimented, shooting Hunk a tight grin as he made his way over to the downed guards and relieved one of them of their fallen blasters.

"Lance," Hunk said, more calmly than he felt as Lance brought the gun up to his shoulder in a test shot.

"Yeah?"

Hunk crossed the short distance between them forcibly poked the corded end of his mop into Lance's chest and Lance nearly dropped the gun in surprise. "Don't you  _ever_ do that again."

And God help him, Lance looked confused, glancing at the mop and then back up to Hunk's face. "Do what?"

" _That!"_ Hunk poked him again, harder, before dropping the mop away and pulling Lance and his commandeered blaster into a tight hug. "You… you could have died!"

"Oh."

"Oh?" Hunk repeated. "Oh? He pulled his hands back to place them heavily on Lance's shoulders. "This is not an 'oh' situation, Lance." He shook him slightly. "What were you thinking?"

Lance cast his eyes to the side. "Thought I could avoid them," he mumbled.

"No," Hunk's voice was unnaturally sharp. "That's not it.  _What_ were you thinking?" Because what Lance had just done ranked on the Keith scale of recklessness. They had the distraction bombs. The element of surprise when the guards rounded the corner. They could have taken them out without Lance offering…

It clicked then and Hunk wasn't sure whether he should hug Lance tighter or shake him again.

"Didn't want you to get hurt," Lance finally admitted, confirming Hunk's theory. "This way you weren't in the line of fire."

"So it's okay for you to get hurt instead?" Hunk demanded, throat choked. "Lance, no.  _Por favor, hermano._ No. Don't… don't do that again." Because Lance always did this. Made himself the target – be it to bullies or Iverson's wrath or a literal bullet – to protect another. It was noble, sure, but one day it was going to get Lance  _killed._

"I really did think I could avoid them," Lance said, voice small. "I swear."

Hunk took a calming breath. There was no use getting upset. It was done. And he was going to make sure it didn't happen again.

"How's your leg?" he asked instead.

"Hurts a little, but not bad," Lance said quietly. "Promise." He looked up at Hunk then, guilt coloring his cheeks. "You're mad."

"I'm scared," Hunk corrected and pulled Lance back into a hug. "Just… don't do it again. Promise me."

He received a jerky nod against his chest. That was going to have to be enough. For now.

"All right then. Ready to keep going?"

"Yeah. We should hurry." Lance angled his head towards the downed guards. "Somebody'll be missing them soon."

Hunk took a quick minute to drag the two guards out of view of the hall offshoot where they wouldn't be quite so visible and then armed himself with the other blaster. He was nowhere near as good as shot as Lance but the long-range was more useful than his mop. He still held onto it though, as it had proven it could take quite a punch. Lance left his broom behind.

They opted to go down the corridor the two Galrans had come from as where there were Galrans there was more likely to be something of interest. Lance kept the blaster angled in front of him, ready to shoot at a moment's notice. Hunk did feel comforted by the familiar sight, even if the blaster was purple.

The hall ended at a large set of double doors with a large keypad outside of it.

"I don't think this goes to another hallway," Lance said, frowning at it. Hunk agreed.

"Could be the control room."

Lance grinned and raised his gun. "I'm ready."

Hunk set to work on programming the doors to open, trying to calm the shaking in his hands. If this was indeed the main control room he'd bet there were Galrans in there. Lots of Galrans. Galrans with guns.

"Hunk." A slender hand descended on his shoulder and Hunk glanced up. Lance's expression was clear. Calm. No hint of the breathless fear from earlier or the cocky grin from a few ticks before. He was fully in control and serious and Hunk sucked in a sharp breath. Lance was back in leader mode. "We've got this."

Hunk nodded. "We do."

And with that Hunk connected the last two wires to bypass the security code. The door didn't slide up like the others though. It needed pulled. Hunk positioned himself on the right side of it and grasped the handle. Lance stepped up, blaster already charged and on his shoulder and gave him the barest inclination of his head.

Hunk opened the door with one swift yank.

Five Galrans looked up at the sound.

A tick later there were only four standing.

The next few moments passed by in a blur of shouting and the sound of a blaster firing at very close range as Lance proceeded into the room, finger on the trigger and Hunk on his heels and laying down his own cover fire that was nowhere near accurate but was forcing the remaining Galrans to dunk down. An alarm shrieked above them and Hunk resisted the urge to curse. Reinforcements would be there soon.

But Lance didn't seem to take any notice of it. He moved like a lion, all lethal grace as he prowled down the walkway to the main hub. Blasts skittered past him but he didn't even flinch, merely lining up his next target and pulling the trigger.

There were only two left now and Hunk felt his hopes rising. They just had to incapacitate them, barricade the doors long enough for him to get into the system and then… then somehow escape with the alarm blaring and reinforcements arriving. But they still had all of the bombs to barrage the Galrans with (assuming they were flesh and blood and not sentries, although maybe the foam would short circuit them?). They could do this. And they'd find information on Shiro and–

Hunk's blaster blinked.

Out of charge.

That…

That was not good.

Apparently Galra blasters didn't hold as much energy as his bayard did and laying on the trigger for a solid few dobashes had not been kind to it.

The remaining Galrans had realized the cover fire was down and both popped up almost simultaneously and angled their guns in Lance's direction. The real threat. Who was wearing absolutely no armor and had no shield.

Lance shot one through the head without pause, a grim realization painted on his face even as he was pivoting towards where the last Galran stood, his blaster already discharging.

And Hunk could do nothing but watch in horror as the world seemed to slow about him. The Galran's shot flew true, purple beam cutting across the space in a blink and entering Lance through his chest and exiting out his back in a violent light.

Lance did not scream. He just sort of crumpled with a wordless gasp like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

His own parting shot took the last Galran with him.

"Lance!" Hunk screamed, movement returned and he stumbled forward to where Lance was lying sprawled on the ground. "Lance!"

Lance mumbled something unintelligible and it was the most beautiful sound Hunk had ever heard as he collapsed on his knees next to him. There was no blood, the wound cauterized by the heat of the blast and fortunately going through Lance's right pectoral far enough to avoid both his lungs and heart, but this close Hunk could smell burnt flesh and he had to swallow back the familiar taste of acid bile. Not now.

" _Pu-puerta,"_ Lance moaned as Hunk made to try and sit him up so he wasn't lying on the exit wound.

" _Puerta?"_ Hunk sounded out the word. He knew that one but right now his brain was not connecting the translation. All it seemed to focus on was the  _hole_ burned straight through Lance.

"Doorrrrr," Lance groaned, slumping in Hunk's hold. Eyes glassy with pain opened. "H-hurry."

Door. Right. The thing the reinforcements were going to be coming through any minute.

"Just a tick," Hunk managed to get. He hated to do it but he lied Lance back down on the ground, as gently as possible, and then raced up the walkway back to the door, alarm continuing to screech in the background. He pulled it shut on his end but there was no keypad to blow out from here.

He pulled out his roll of garbage bags instead. That could work. Hunk yanked several free and twisted them together as quickly as he could into some semblance of rope. It wouldn't hold for very long but anything was better than nothing. He threaded it through the two door handles several times and tied it off. He jammed the dead blaster in as well and re-armed himself with his mop that had fallen by the wayside.

When he turned around Lance had somehow managed to pull himself to sitting, slouching over with his blaster in his lap and a clear view of the door. Tight lines were drawn in his brow and his eyes still had a sheen to them but behind that was a hard resolve.

It both scared and comforted Hunk.

" _Rápidamente por favor,"_ he rasped, locking gazes with Hunk. "Sh-Shiro. I'll cover."

"Oh God," Hunk muttered in response, but he forced himself to pass Lance and go to the console. He had to step around a dead Galran, hole blown through his head, and then he did lose his battle with his weak stomach.

There was no time to waste though so he spared only a second wipe his mouth across his shirt sleeve and then he got to work, fingers flying across the large keyboard.

Data flashed by in streams and Hunk had to stop a few times to reconfigure the code to allow him further access. He sent up a silent prayer to Pidge for giving him coding lessons or he'd have been royally screwed.

Still, he wasn't going fast enough. There was a loud thumping coming from the door and a quick glance up showed that it was buckling.

"Come on, come on," Hunk muttered, eyes scanning line after line of code as he programmed it to seek out keywords.

The door gave a screech and Hunk jerked his head up in time to see a sentry bot's upper torso squeezing through the gap.

A blast of purple light shot straight through it and it collapsed half-in the room. Behind it more pulled at the door.

It wouldn't be long now.

Lance was picking them off one by one as they tried to squeeze in through the crack they had made. Even over the sound of the still blaring alarm Hunk could hear his harsh pants with every shot as the blaster recoiled in his arms.

It really wasn't going to be long now.

Despair made its way through Hunk as the rapid search through the current Galra base yielded nothing. This was a headquarters location, hence all of the Galra officers, but it merely served to service shipping transports and market fare from nearby planets. It had no information outside of this quadrant and all it had was shipping logs and inventory lists.

No mention of Shiro.

Useless.

Just like Hunk had figured it would be. Still. Better to doublecheck than to leave and be left wondering. He could acknowledge that.

But they were trapped now in the control room with a small army outside and Lance was really, really hurt.

Hunk didn't know how they were getting out.

He glanced around the room for inspiration, for an exit. But there were no useful vents or coverings and the only thing here seemed to be more work stations and screens. He was about to go see if he could find anything useful if he dismantled one of the stations when there was a final sounding sort of shriek of metal from the front of the room.

He whirled to see the door gave way then with a towering crash and sentries spilled in, staggering over the downed ones that littered the middle.

Lance continued to shoot, sweat beading his hairline and growing paler with each blast but still somehow managing headshots that downed the sentries in their tracks.

But there were too many. And Hunk knew it wouldn't be long before Lance's blaster ran out too.

With sheer brute force he ripped one of the metal panels that covered the base of the console off, feeling the sting of charge through his fingertips, and hefted it in front of him.

And then with a battle cry of his own Hunk charged forward.

He couldn't quite see where he was going but it was a straight line from the computers to the door and that was good enough for him. He passed by Lance, who didn't seem aware at all of the screaming person coming from behind, eyes still laser-focused on the sentries, and a tick later he slammed into a sentry.

Hunk's momentum and mass plowed him forward like a battering ram and he kept pushing against the robots, shoving them back and keeping them from being able to get a clear shot on Lance while Lance picked off the ones on the sides as they emerged.

And although it took his ears a second to register it, not even a minute later the sound of laser fire and creaking metal joints had stopped and only the shrill alarm continued its ring.

Hunk stabbed his makeshift shield down, embedding it in the circuitry of a sentry underfoot so it wavered upright but would at least provide some sort of cover for a minute, and then dashed back to Lance, who… was not looking good.

He was nearly white with pain below his tan and dark ocean eyes mere pinpricks, breath coming in harsh pants.

Still, he held onto the blaster.

"We… we get them?" he managed although he did not look at Hunk, eyes only for the door.

"For now," Hunk said. "We've gotta go."

"Sh-Shiro?"

Hunk must have paused too long because the tight tension that had been keeping Lance upright drained away in an instant.

"Damn it," he whispered, pained eyes closing for just a moment.

"We had to try," Hunk said, knowing it was a hollow comfort. "But now we  _really_ have to go."

"I don't think I can walk," Lance said quietly. "I…" There was a tremor in his limbs now and the gun was slipping from his grasp as the adrenaline faded out.

"I'll carry you," Hunk said firmly. He crouched down in front of Lance, his own legs trembling. "Hop on."

" _Pero_ —"

"Lance, if you even dare say anything along the lines of 'leave me behind' I will only feed you food goo for a month."

A tiny smirk pulled up Lance's mouth and he let out a weak laugh. " _Eso no. Moriré._ _"_

They both seemed to realize at the same time what he'd said and Lance's expression widened in surprise while Hunk's narrowed with a grim determination.

"No dying," Hunk ordered. "Now get on."

"You are… very d-demanding," Lance said, near breathless, and he couldn't quite bite back the moan as he leaned forward and draped his arms about Hunk's neck, injured chest pressing against Hunk's back.

Hunk secured Lance's legs against his sides and rose up, careful to avoid the bag of explosives. A moment later Lance was angling his long limbs to tuck about one another around Hunk's stomach and Hunk freed his arms and hands to retrieve his trusty mop.

"You good?" he asked, wincing slightly as Lance tightened his grip about his neck.

" _B-bien."_

Hunk surged forward, pausing only to yank free his console panel that had proven to hold up to blaster fire rather well and gripped it as best he could in the small indentation that had once been a port opening.

He felt sort of like a knight, Hunk thought. Shield, jousting pole… except he was also the horse. Maybe he was like a centaur knight?

" _Espera!"_ Lance gasped before Hunk could exit the room and Hunk froze mid-step, both at the command and the fact Lance was reverting so heavily back to his mother tongue. He was  _really_ not doing good and his heartbeat quickened. "Bl-blaster."

"I don't have any more hands available," Hunk said, mop and shield taking up the only two he'd been given.

" _Para mi."_

"You cannot be serious."

_"S-serio."_

And Hunk heard it. That conviction. The inner strength that so many overlooked because of Lance's surface flippant personality.

Lance wanted a blaster?

He was going to get one.

Hunk managed to tuck the mop under his arm and awkwardly bent down, Lance tipping forward and nearly causing Hunk to roll into a somersault for one terrifying moment, but hooked his hand about a blaster – smaller than the ones the Galran officers had been using – from a sentry's hands and passed it up to Lance.

The grip around his neck loosened ever so slightly as Lance accepted the weapon and Hunk felt it settle against his shoulder before the arm re-tightened in an almost chokehold but Hunk would manage.

" _Listo,"_ Lance whispered, hot breath ghosting across Hunk's ear.

That was all the prompting Hunk needed and he hurried through the wrenched open doors. If there was one positive to storming the control room it was he'd seen a layout map of the base. It wasn't all that large but a lot of the hallways overlapped and it would have been easy to get turned around.

But it was a straight shot if he focused. Back down the long hall they'd come from, make a right in the opposite direction from the jail cells, get through another coded door and then make another right. That should lead them outside of the building but there looked to be some type of wall or barrier around the base. No doubt, Hunk figured, to keep it separate from the city it governed.

To his surprise they encountered no resistance as they sped through the halls, not even when Hunk had to take a precious minute to get them through the secured doors.

His stomach was turning in knots again because there was no way that had been all of it. The fact there had been as many Galrans as there were in the control room and a pair of a patrolling guards indicated that there was a decent force here. The alarm was still going, the blinking lights starting to really hurt Hunk's eyes, so  _where were they?_

As the final door opened that led to the outside Hunk got his answer.

A small army of sentries were lined up between them and the large gate door while a few Galran officers – one commander, it looked like too, Hunk gulped – were behind them.

There was a pause as both sides looked at each other and Hunk felt very, very outgunned with his mop. How were they supposed to battle all of these to the gate? There was no way.

The sudden whine of a gun echoed right by Hunk's head and the nearest sentry to them exploded in a mess of parts. The one next to it followed a split second later.

Lance. Of course. Injured, exhausted and still managing headshots while awkwardly holding onto Hunk. He really shouldn't have expected anything less.

That seemed to be the cue for the Galrans though and a moment later the whine and echo of blasters being fired filled the courtyard area. Hunk yelped and hefted his shield, blocking their vision but intercepting the shots.

The gate wasn't going to work, he realized. There was no way he could do a charge. They needed another way out.

They needed to go over.

Hunk looked to the wall; about twenty feet high give or take.

And then an insane, dangerous idea came to mind.

"Lance, I'm thinking something of doing something really, really crazy."

He could almost feel a smile against the back of his neck where Lance's head had lolled forward. " _Me encanta l-loco."_

"I knew you'd say that," Hunk muttered, edging them sideways as the blaster fire continued to rain down upon them. He had to drop his mop to brace both hands on the makeshift shield as the barrage increased.

They were in real trouble if this didn't work. Hunk had a sinking feeling that if the Galra didn't know who their prisoners had been to start, they definitely had to be getting suspicious now and things were not going to end well if they were captured. Hunk didn't think they'd outright kill them but an interrogation didn't sound like a good way to go either.

"Okay," he said as they reached the wall. "Okay. I'm… I'm going to need to put the shield down for a few ticks. Can you cover us?"

 _"Sí,"_ came the resolute answer.

Hunk's hands shook at what he needed to do. This was either going to work or it was literally going to blow up in his face.

"When… when I say go you hold on tight, okay? Drop the blaster if you have to."

Lance nodded and Hunk moved. He dropped the shield, exposing them both. Lance was already shooting again but Hunk couldn't focus on the heat whistling past his ear or the way purple bolts were sizzling all around them.

His hands fumbled at the tie of the garbage bag he'd looped through his pants and he held the freed bag a moment later.

The bag filled with near twenty explosives.

Hunk shook it as rapidly as he could, hearing the liquid slosh around inside and a faint hissing noise somehow audible over the sound of blaster fire.

It was time to fly.

"Hold on!" he screamed, hefting the bag up and with complete trust Lance let go of his gun and proceeded to nearly choke the life out of Hunk with his surprisingly still iron grip.

The garbage bag slammed into the ground a tick later.

There was a moment of nothing and Hunk faintly wondered what he'd just done. He must have misinterpreted the alien chemic—

The bag exploded and with a high pitched scream on Hunk's end they were catapulted into the air on a concussive wave of foam like a rocket. They shot straight up.

And up.

And up.

Apparently the alien ingredients were much, much stronger than he had anticipated.

Fifty feet higher than anticipated.

Hunk felt his stomach turn over as the compound shrunk below them and he heard Lance's sharp intake.

They may have managed to gain enough height to get over the wall but gravity was going to make them go splat on the return down.

What did he do? What did he do?

They needed some sort of parachute to at least slow their descent but where was he—

Garbage bags. Heavy duty Galran garbage bags.

Hunk ripped the roll out of his pocket, desperately shaking one out but knowing that he needed it stretched to max capacity if this was going to work.

"Lance!" he screamed. "Grab it!"

And Lance to his credit did not even hesitate. His legs tightened and he immediately let go of his chokehold on Hunk and reached up, sharp gasp as his chest was contorted, and grabbed at the bag. Hunk could feel Lance leaning back, stretching the impromptu parachute as wide as he could and his stomach dropped as he felt Lance's feet give a bit.

"Hold on!" he cried, straining forward with his half of the garbage bag to create a giant black rectangle in the air above them just as they began their descent.

Hunk felt his arms near rip off as the current caught beneath the bag and Lance yelled out in clear pain but somehow, somehow, maintained his grip even as his legs slid a bit before he hooked his ankles even more firmly with another yell.

It was not a graceful descent. It was still hard and fast and the wind was stinging Hunk's eyes and making them water.

But it was not an instant death plummet either.

Hunk squeezed his legs together and bent his knees, knowing he needed to create the smallest zone of impact. Smaller impact zone, less chance of breaking every bone in his body.

Oh God, they were going to die.

A second later they hit the ground.

Hunk's legs  _screamed_ at him as he miraculously managed to land on them, but stumbled forward at the sheer momentum from the hit, hands instinctively going to his head and elbows jutting out. Lance catapulted forward off of him, bouncing and tumbling on the dirt-packed ground while Hunk rolled a couple times himself, screams turned to gasps as the wind was knocked out of him.

He opened his eyes and the world spun in a dizzy blur above him and Hunk closed them quickly, stomach threatening to upheave again.

"L-Lance," he choked out, feeling like every piece of him was one giant bruise.

No answer.

"L-Lance,  _por favor._ A-answer me."

Still nothing.

Oh God no. No no no.

Due to Hunk's fear of heights and the amount of times he was required to still go into the air at the Garrison he had done the research. Landing feet first was the best way to survive but people could still die from the second impact, the bounce. And Hunk didn't think Lance had had the time or mobility to move his arms to protect his head and neck.

Oh God. He'd just killed Lance.

That spurred him to movement and Hunk somehow got onto his hands and knees, the ground swimming in front of him. He picked his head up, spotting Lance's sprawled, unmoving form a few yards in front of him. Painfully he crawled to him, each inch feeling like a mile.

Lance's right arm was bent unnaturally at the elbow and there was a sheen of white poking out of his lower left leg. Bone.

Hunk somehow did not puke.

"L-Lance" he whispered, reaching a hand out to Lance's slack face, head tilted down towards his chest.

A faint breath of air puffed against his hand.

Hunk blinked.

Lance was alive. Lance was  _alive._

He looked back over his shoulder where they'd come from. Their descent had not been straight down so they had maybe half a mile between them and the Galra compound. Based on the sun above Hunk would say they were about two miles from where they'd docked the castle.

He had to hurry.

Lance didn't have much time.

Hunk knew you weren't supposed to move people with potential spine injuries but not moving him was signing his death warrant. Hunk honestly wasn't sure how he was supposed to move himself but he grit his teeth. Lance needed him and Hunk was not going to let him down. He had two working legs still. He could walk.

Somehow Hunk got to his knees and reached out shaking arms, one going behind Lance's shoulders and the other below the bend of his knees. He tried very hard not to look at the bone. Carefully he clambered to his feet and took a deep breath, holding Lance close.

Go.

He didn't hear any immediate signs of chase but he kept his pace as quick as he could make it. Less than half a mile out by his guess, Lance stirred in his arms.

"H-hey," Hunk gasped, down to his own last reserves. "Lance, you… you awake?"

An unintelligible mumble and then hazy blue eyes opened halfway. They didn't quite focus but there was recognition in them.

"Hunk?" came a barely audible whisper.

"Right here,  _hermano._ We're almost to the castle. It's going to be okay."

A small smile and Lance tucked his head more comfortably against Hunk's chest. " _Mi héroe,"_ came a tiny mumble.

Hunk sniffed. "I should be saying that to you."

" _Dígalo."_

Hunk's sniffle turned into a chortle. "Now who is the demanding one? Fine. You're my hero, Lance." He could feel the smile then, real and genuine. "The most amazing, sharpshooting hero there ever was."

There was a pause then and Hunk gently bobbed his arms, anything to keep Lance awake for the last remaining bit of their walk to the castle.  "This is where you return the compliment."

A muffled laugh. " _Eres mi héro_ e _… M-muy brillante y l-loco."_  

"Crazy and brilliant?" Hunk teased, nearly collapsing with relief as the castle came into view. "I mean, I did sort of blow us up. I guess that's fair."

Lance laughed again and pure relief filled Hunk at the sound, banishing the last bit of pulsing fear. There would always be scary things out there in the universe, Hunk knew. But with Lance by his side… Hunk knew he had nothing to actually be afraid of.

**Author's Note:**

> (Spanish notes: Most of it has a pretty clear English counterpart and/or I had Hunk clarify, but _Dígalo_ is "say it" and _Eso no, moriré_ is "Not that, I will die.")
> 
> A commission fic for the lovely Blue_Eyed_Dreamer as part of my fundraiser to help a friend in some financial need. The prompt was for a sort of action/adventure plot involving Hunk and Lance using their talents of MacGyvering and sniping to escape from the Galra, set in season three before Shiro is located. Hope you enjoy it hun! It was definitely an adventure to write! (Also, shoutout to the Tumblr fans who suggested some of Hunk's fears! I got quite a few in there!)
> 
> Hi readers! *waves* If you read all the way through and enjoyed the fic too please do leave a comment below. Authors truly appreciate them and I love in particular hearing favorite parts or lines or what really resonated with you. Please show the author some love!
> 
> (Want to keep up with my work? Follow me on [Tumblr, icypantherwrites!](http://icypantherwrites.tumblr.com/))


End file.
